


superheroes, huh?

by livingtheobsessedlife



Category: DCU, Marvel
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, Secret Identity, but the boys get sappy anyway, mostly POv Steve Rogers, superhero universe crossover!!!, the avengers kick ass, the avengers know how to party, the big bads are always ruining Tony’s parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingtheobsessedlife/pseuds/livingtheobsessedlife
Summary: Tony Starkknowssuperheroes, okay.He doesn’t, however, have any clue that his childhood friend Bruce Wayne and his hunky new reporter boyfriend are superheroes. He doesn’t have a single clue, but he invites them to his annual New Year’s Eve party anyway despite the growing number of superhero RSVPs.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 175





	superheroes, huh?

Tony Stark doesn’t know that his oldest friend is a superhero. 

He knows that his boyfriend is a superhero, and he knows that his best friend uses one of his suits to act as a superhero under contract for the United States military. He knows very well that he himself is a superhero. He _knows_ superheroes. 

He doesn’t, however, have any clue that his childhood friend Bruce Wayne and his hunky new reporter boyfriend are superheroes. He doesn’t have a single clue, but he invites them to his annual New Year’s Eve party anyway despite the growing number of superhero RSVPs. 

“Brucey!” He cheers when he sees the guy, nursing a neat little glass of some geriatric whiskey, “Happy New Year!”

The boyfriend notably smiles, but Bruce stays wry from his spot on the towering man’s arm, “Tony. As dramatic as ever, I see. Happy New Year.”

“Have you been mingling? Who have you met? You know Rhodey and Pepper, they’re both here obviously, but oh my god have you met Steve? I have to introduce you to Steve. And Thor’s here! Thor would love to meet you. Oh, and Nat too! You and Nat are gonna get along real well. Come on!”

Tony leads the visitors through the winding crowd scene, introducing Clark and Bruce to his superhero teammates and coworkers. Clark gets nervous that Nat stares at him a little too long, a knowing lilt to her expression buried under her carefully trained smile, but she doesn’t say anything otherwise, just shakes Bruce’s hand and winks, smiles kindly at Clark.

“And this is Steve,” Tony says with a proud smile, “My boyfriend, and Captain America.”

Steve reaches out a hand for Clark to shake, “Nice to meet you.”

They both notice the firm grip, but neither of them says anything about it, just smiles politely and latches onto their richer, more melodramatic, respective boyfriends. 

Tony’s introducing them to his teammate Bruce Banner, the two spiraling feet first into a science talk that Clark can’t even hope to keep track of when the whole room is disrupted by a crashing alarm. It seems the whole world pauses and resumes within a single moment. 

“ _AVENGERS ASSEMBLE_!” Tony’s boyfriend yells, and the room falls into pandemonium. 

Tony looks over at Bruce and Clark apologetically, shiny red metal chunks already flying through the air to collect around his body, “Just- uh, can you can guys stay here? Stick around? We got some trouble to get rid of. You should be perfectly safe up here. Promise.”

Clark and Bruce watch with carefully trained expressions as Doctor Banner turns into a hulking green monster, flesh and bones expanding in a grotesque and powerful display. The transformed creature roars like a grosser Godzilla at the top of the tower and in one fell swoop leaps out of a top story window like an Olympic diver, leaving shattered glass to crumble down the side of the building in his wake like sharp edged snowflakes.

“Shit, _again_?” The shiny red suit curses, sounding like a mechanized version of the Tony Bruce knows as he glares at the cataclysmic hole in his panoramic window panes. He dives out the Hulk-shaped hole after the monster, hollering as he goes, “ _Dammit, Hulk, you plannin’ to pay for that this time?_ ”

Bruce, Clark, and the hodge podge of celebrities and business professionals that are guests to the party are expertly lead away from the berth of the shattered glass and the sucking midnight breeze. Bruce and Clark share a look. The rest of the Avengers have disappeared through side doors and hidden elevators, and the sound of a top-of-the-line quinjet buzzes above them even in Bruce’s non-super ears. 

It’s not difficult for them to slip away. 

Tony Stark designs his living spaces to be able to slip away, do whatever playboy billionaires do when they want to slip a willing victim into a seductive corner. His paranoid streak leaves Clark several options for hidden exits. It doesn’t take long for them to don their disguises and slip in the direction of the action. 

That New Year’s eve, Batman and Superman show up to help defend New York City. 

They easily follow the sounds of the explosions, watch for the beacons of lightning sent up to the sky like a flashlight made out of the center of the earth. They see a red and gold flash flit between stars in the distance, do a succinct loop-di-loop. They hear the Hulk roar and watch reactionary chunks of concrete crash against the horizon. 

It doesn’t take them long to find the site of the battle. 

Captain America falters at the sight of their new guests. 

“Superman?” He calls, pauses beside an upturned sedan, shield hanging limply at his side, eyes to the sky, “What are you doing here?”

A significant globe of destruction is lobbed just to the right of his head. He barely flinches. Superman smiles down at him just as Batman rounds the corner on a black, steel bike.

“We’re here to help, Captain.”

Even under his cowl and the heavy dust of battle, Steve’s visceral frown is evident, “We don’t need-“

Superman eviscerates a dangerously large chunk of what used to be building as it soars past him, destroying the impromptu weapon with his laser eyes. Steve watches as the thing vaporizes within the time it takes for Steve to blink an eye. 

Not one to deny help like that, Steve’s frown dissolves into a serious expression, and he nods, “Good to have you on, Superman. Don’t get in too much trouble.”

And with that, Captain America takes off at a sprint, his shield at his side like a third arm so in tune with the rest of him. He bends his knees and flips against the corner of a building, parkouring and landing feet first against the crux of the intruder’s chest. 

Batman all but throws his dark bike at the offending creature, the two wheels spinning wildly in the air and the engine whirring as loud as the Hulk as Bruce lands feet first with one arm outstretched to catch himself on the asphalt. The bike crashes right into the face of their opponent, leaving tracks against its scaly skin and bruises where the vehicle hit. 

Bruce starts pulling out weapons, sharp knives and heavy duty shurikens, sprinting and dashing about the creature expertly, dizzying his opponent with his shadow-like agility. Thor gives Steve a boost, and he hits again. Superman floats above the whole scene beside Iron Man and his buzzing repulsors, working the monster from above while Hulk punches at the thing’s knees. Nat and Clint work together to make sure any other civilians have been removed from the area. 

Soon enough, the creature screeches one final death cry like the last note of a riotous symphony being pulled flat, and the grotesque corpse crashes to the ground, making the gravel and tar shake with the tremendous weight of it. 

The Avengers and their guests are left with heaving chests and hands on hips, watching the life drain from scaly flesh, blinking. SHIELD appears moments later with sirens and lights and an abundance of red and yellow tape. After a brief statement, the heroes are ushered offsite to divert some of the media attention. With nowhere else to go, nothing left to do, they return to the tower and the halted party left back there. 

Steve turns to invite their new acquaintances, Superman and Batman, along to the party, prepared to promise discretion concerning identities, but the two heroes have already disappeared into the night. 

“You coming, Cap?” Tony calls, hovering in the sky above him like a redlined cloud. 

Steve lets his eyes sweep one last time before he looks up at his levitating boyfriend, the cerulean repulsors making the grey sidewalks glow ethereally. He nods once, twice, and starts to jog, “Yeah,” He says, more serious than he means, “Let’s go.”

He watches Iron Man shoot up toward the top of the tower with the Stark name glowing from the top of it. 

By the time Steve makes it to the penthouse, the rest of the Avengers are already there. Steve finds himself scanning the room again. For what, he’s not entirely sure: a familiar face maybe, or an impressive build that would befit skintight, blue Kevlar and a bold, red cape. Something like that. Tony’s old friend Bruce Wayne and his boyfriend Clark Something-Or-Other appear at the edge of the crowd. 

Steve’s about to make his way over to them, Clark’s eyes going big as he notices Steve’s focused attention, but he’s interrupted by Tony’s arm affectionately thrown over Steve’s large shoulders. 

“Alright, everybody!” Tony calls out to the awkward crowd, tugging his boyfriend close and away from the direction of the mysterious couple, “I know that that was kinda a party pooper. But we’re back now, the world is saved, you’re welcome, and it’s not midnight yet- so let’s keep this party rolling, whoo!”

Steve, as boyfriend of the host, is forced to turn away from Bruce and Clark and refocus on Tony’s good mood and light feet as he’s tugged to the makeshift living room dance floor. He almost forgets about the whole mysterious ordeal. Almost. 

Tony makes for a rather good distraction. 

That is, until the countdown begins and all the guests are gathered in one place. With Tony tucked happily against his side, the whole group staring out the panoramic windows to get a live view of the famous Times Square Ball Drop from such a spectacular, glimmery distance, Steve lets his eyes wander. 

“ _Sixty seconds_!” Tony sing-songs over the General noise of the room. The whole room sings back, but Steve is otherwise occupied. He catches that strange Clark Kent guy watching him, Bruce Wayne similarly tucked under his heavy, affectionate arm. They make eye contact. 

And Steve seems to remember those same eyes turning red and obliterating a violent piece of concrete. Clark stares back. 

“Uh, hey, Tones?” Steve murmurs without breaking eye contact with the Metropolitan reporter. 

Tony doesn’t notice though, busy keeping the party afloat, chanting along with the clock, “ _Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen- ready, babe? Eleven, ten…_ ”

Steve sees Superman now, he doesn’t know how he missed it before. He sees it in the eyes and the dark curls of hair, the slim cut of his waist intentionally disguised by the dark suit. He watches as Bruce Wayne’s eyes flash too, aware of the situation. He looks up at his boyfriend, an urging countdown on his lips, and instead follows his eyes, wordlessly locking on Steve, the man who knows their deepest secrets. 

It occurs to Steve that Bruce must know. He must. Like how Tony taking off his faceplate to smile at Steve made him feel whole, surely he knows. The way Superman would die for his city, for anybody, any stranger. That’s not something you keep from a partner, not a partner that looks at Bruce the way Clark does at least. 

Steve looks from Tony, the curl of his hands around Steve’s waist, the charming smile on his spread lips, a silhouette chalked out against the midnight sky, then back to Bruce Wayne, and he sees- it’s absurd and unlikely, but hell, he swears it’s Batman he sees staring wordlessly back at him. 

As a superhero, Steve has trained himself to identify faces by a few figures. Run-of-the-mill villains love to throw in disguising face masks or low-drawn cowls to add a little mystery evilness to their wardrobe. Steve learned awhile ago to look past the flimsy, distracting pieces of cloth. 

He’d pieced together what Batman looked like under his mask hours ago, had the muted grey of his eyes memorized like a photo negative. It’s only now, looking back at him, that Steve realizes he’d met Batman before that fight. 

“Hey, Tony?”

“ _Three, two, one- happy new year_!”

In a moment, Steve is pulled from his eye-locked mystery down to face his smiling boyfriend whose soft hands curl around Steve’s neck and tug him down into a celebratory kiss. 

When Tony pulls away, smiling and whispering sweet salutations, he releases Steve to turn and give his guests hugs, the ever-grateful hug. As Tony wraps Rhodey and Pepper into a reluctant group hug, Steve looks out over the crowd to search out the secret heroes. 

He more than half expects them to be whispering conspiratorially to one another, maybe sneaking out under the bustle of celebration. He’s surprised that they’re in the same spot, sharing a soft, familiar kiss, faces close. Clark has goaded a smile out of the perpetually grumpy Bruce. 

Steve’s gotta give it to them, they don’t look like the kinda guys to have secret identities. Half potentially sleazy billionaire, maybe. But they don’t look the part of an alter ego. 

“Hey, babe?” Tony asks, wrapping a hand around Steve’s bicep, breathless, “Sorry, were you trying to say something before?”

Steve watches Tony’s childhood best friend smooth out his boyfriend’s suit jacket, a shared smile passed between the two of them in their own little world as the rest of the room conflagrates with celebration. Definitely superheroes. 

Steve shakes his head.

He forces himself to look away from the other couple, “No. Sorry. It was nothing, um, happy new year.”

Tony throws his arms around Steve, and his smile grows. Steve can’t remember the last time he looked this happy. Sure, he finds joy when he’s in the suit or makes some big fix in his workshop. But this smile? Steve would kill to keep this smile on Tony’s face. He impulsively kisses it. 

Batman and Superman’s secrets are safe with him. Secret identities are usually secret for a reason, and Steve doesn’t want to pop Tony’s glorious, champagne-tinted bubble right now. 

“What’s your New Year’s resolution, babe?” Tony asks, a hand tucked intimately in the space between Steve’s shirt and his suit jacket. Steve smiles, hums exaggeratedly.

“M’not sure. I’ve got everything I could want right here.”

It’s not the year for revealing secret identities. Not now at least. Not when he has Tony looking at him like that.

”Happy New Year, Bruce!” Tony is saying over Steve’s shoulder, “Another year, huh?”

Bruce chuckles, and Steve spins around to face the other couple. Tony keeps his hand tucked close to Steve’s skin, warm, “You’re getting real old, Stark. What’cha gonna do about it?”

Clark Kent all but exactly mirrors Steve’s tense pose, but he notices the relaxed nature of Steve’s shoulders, his soft, genuine smile, and Steve finds himself if Superman can mind read, because he relaxes too and smiles back at Steve. Wordlessly, he knows their secret is safe with Captain America.


End file.
